The Eyes of the Beholder
by On-A-Rainy-Day
Summary: Hermione is having trouble finding Hogwarts, A History. includes her real thoughts on house elves.sweet RH fluff. one-shot. [edited]


Eyes of the Beholder  
  
Hermione was searching through the Hogwarts library. It was there somewhere, she knew it! If the house elves would just stop rearranging the library... In all her years in Hogwarts, she had been the only person to check it out. Well, as far as she knew. So it had to be there. Somewhere. Stupid house elves...  
  
Ah, there it was! She reached for it, a triumphant grin on her face. She reached out for the huge, well-worn book. She had it practically memorized, but still checked it out from time to time; sometimes to check something for class, other times just to annoy Ron.  
  
Her fingertips brushed the spine, and she once again grinned—this time at the thought of the look on Ron's face when she brought the book back to the common room.  
  
Hermione had one hand on Hogwarts, A History when it was yanked out of her grasp from the other side of the shelf. She jumped, startled. She leaned down a bit and peered through the space between the tops of the books and the shelf. To her dismay, she saw nothing but the front of some robes and a Gryffindor tie. Now, more curious then before, she pulled over a small footstool and climbed up. She was now level with the space in the shelf above her original one. She looked through, expecting to see someone, like herself, known for being brainy. Maybe that one third year...  
  
But this time instead of seeing the front of robes, she saw the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. They were huge, and the color of a cloudless summer sky. She was so startled by those eyes that she gasped quickly and took a step back, forgetting that she was on a footstool.  
  
Hermione, of course, fell off and tumbled backwards into the shelf behind her. She covered her head, expecting books to come falling on top of her, but none came.  
  
She knew she'd seen those eyes before, but was unable to place where. She chewed on a fingernail, searching her mind through all the Gryffindors, trying to think of whose they could be. But then someone came skidding around the corner and down her aisle.  
  
Oh yeah. Ron.  
  
Hermione looked up at him as he walked towards her. Though she was usually a quick thinker, Hermione was now torn between the need to run and wanting to go and hug Ron. She didn't know why. He just looked so huggable, hurrying towards her, concern clouding those lovely eyes.  
  
Unable to choose between the two, Hermione simply looked away from Ron at the shelf across from her. In theory, if she avoided him looking at him, she could avoid talking to him too. So she read the titles across from her.  
  
Hmmmm—'Lineage of the Most Honorable Wizards.' She squinted at the book, almost positive it was by a Malfoy, but was distracted when Ron sat next to her.  
  
Hermione determinedly refocused on the books across from her. 'The Ministry and Beyond'. That sounded interesting. Maybe she should check that out instead?  
  
But once again, her thoughts were interrupted when Ron leaned into her, bumping his shoulder against hers. She looked over at him. He was staring back at her, his eyes twinkling in merriment.  
  
"Whatcha doing down here?" His lips twitched with a suppressed grin. So much for her theory. Crap.  
  
She continued looking at him, still unable to speak. Pain shot through her finger. She dimly realized she'd bitten too low and switched fingers. She then looked back at her shelf, and searched for her voice.  
  
"Oh, nothing. I...er...dropped my..." She started to form an excuse, but trailed off. She had nothing to pretend to have dropped.  
  
Hermione sat next to him in an embarrassed silence. Then something hit her. She turned quite suddenly.  
  
"Ronald Weasley!"  
  
He eyed her warily. "Yeah?"  
  
"You were going to read Hogwarts, a History!"  
  
The tips of his ears turned red.  
  
"You've no proof of that."  
  
Hermione looked at him, raised her eyebrows, and then turned her eyes to the enormous book sitting in his lap. His eyes followed hers, and the red deepened.  
  
"Oh. I...erm..."  
  
"Decided to do a bit of light reading?" she supplied helpfully.  
  
Ron snorted. "Light? I had to do a charm on this bugger to even be able to lift it off the shelf"  
  
Hermione smiled.  
  
"I'm not joking!"  
  
"Mr. Quidditch star, King of the Gryffindors, can't even lift a book? You and Harry had better start some extensive training pretty soon if you want that Quidditch Cup!"  
  
Ron feigned shock, putting his hand over his heart.  
  
"Hermione! Thinking of quidditch! Maybe you should try out. We need some new chasers. You should join! You must have some pretty big muscles from lugging this thing around."  
  
She smiled, picturing herself on the team. Yeah. Sure.  
  
"I guess you don't remember our first flying lesson?"  
  
Ron gave her a weird look. "Sure I do. Harry was made seeker."  
  
"No, the other part. After Madam Hooch got back. I was too scared to fly. I hyperventilated, went to the hospital wing, and was excused from flying lessons for the rest of the year."  
  
"So you've never flown?" Ron asked incredulously.  
  
"I have. To help you and Harry catch the flying key in first year."  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
They both sat for a while reminiscing. At least Hermione was. She really had no idea what went on in Ron's head.  
  
"Well I reckon its time you learn how." Ron broke the silence.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Learn how to fly." He stood and brushed off his robes.  
  
"Erm..."  
  
"Oh come on. It's not that hard."  
  
Hermione looked up at Ron from her seat on the floor. His eyes were full of excitement, and a grin was stretched across his face.  
  
It was those stupid eyes that got her.  
  
"Oh, all right."  
  
His grin grew and he held out his hand to help her up. She took it and climbed semi-gracefully to her feet.  
  
They laughed and joked all the way to the quidditch pitch, where they had to drop their clasped hands to get on broomsticks.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Poo. Please Review! (Heh heh—I rhymed) 


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